Work Text:
They’d been promised a night off. Hotch had said, “I will not call you,” but JJ had added, “Unless something time sensitive comes in.” The team had all laughed, agreed that was highly unlikely, and left that office. They had been promised .
At least, that was what Emily and Derek would try to argue later. One free night. It didn’t seem completely impossible. Apparently it was.
They went to the club together, ready to dance and kiss women and forget about work. It was a secret of theirs (that they hung out a lot), but that worked just fine for them. Emily wasn’t technically out, and Derek liked keeping the details of his exploits to himself. So, their debaucherous nights were just for them.
Their favorite club was a hole-in-the-wall place in Arlington. Bliss wasn’t technically a gay bar, but it didn’t judge any of its clientele. It was perfect for Derek, who loved women only looking for a little fun, and Emily, who wanted both discretion and excitement. They were regulars.
As soon as they arrived at their favorite club, the two agents tossed back double shots of vodka and went their separate ways. Derek hit the dance floor, and Emily headed toward a small crowd of women talking in a back corner. They quickly forget all about each other.
Emily found herself drunk sooner than she’d expected. Her usual crowd was at the club, and they enjoyed pulling her hair back and pouring liquor into her mouth. Drunk Emily got handsy, so it didn’t take long for her to end up in someone’s lap, doing her best to kiss their lipstick off.
For Derek, it took a little longer. He was more focused on buying women drinks and dancing as close as possible. There were women he’d already slept with (who were eager to do it again), as well as a few new options. Derek bought them all drinks, and drank enough to keep up with them.
It really seemed like they were going to have the whole night off. By 2am, Emily was just about ready to leave with someone whose name she didn’t know and didn’t want to know. Their hands were already under her shirt, and she couldn’t bring herself to care.
Derek had chosen who he was going to take home, but he was getting a little dancing in before he asked her to leave. He just couldn’t say no to anyone who asked him to dance. Who was he to deny them the opportunity to be close to him?
He actually missed the first few phone calls, too distracted by the ladies around him, and the deep bass pumping around them. It didn’t help that he was four tequila shots (and 3 beers) deep. He was also pretending like work didn’t exist. They had a promised night off after all.
It was actually one of his new ‘friends’ who noticed. She pressed herself into his side and laughed. Tapping him on the shoulder, she pointed to his pocket.
“Your pants are ringing!” she shouted over the music.
He blew her a kiss before pulling his phone from his pocket. It took him a few tries, fingers fumbling. Hopefully, it wasn’t work because he was way too drunk to solve a case. It would also be so hard to drag Emily from whatever corner (and lap) she was in.
Flipping his phone open, he groaned. It was work. If he wasn’t so drunk, he would have remembered that it was always work. He answered the call, pushing a finger into his other ear.
“Yeah?” he said loudly, moving off the dance floor and away from his would-be-lovers. “JJ?”
“We got a case.”
He groaned again, this time just so JJ knew how upset he was. “You said we had the night off!”
“It just came in. Trust me, I wanted a night off as much as you.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
“Is Emily with you? She’s not answering her phone.”
Derek grinned and nodded before remembering that JJ couldn’t see him. “I’ll bring her along. And, JJ?”
“Yes?”
“We’re drunk as shit.”
“Great. That’s…great.”
He hung up the phone, not caring about whether or not she had more to say. He’d find out soon enough. Now he had the difficult task of finding his best friend. She was probably still in the club. Hopefully.
Pushing his way through the crowd, Derek did his best to take in the faces of everyone dancing. They were a little blurry because of his current state, but he would still have recognized Emily. When he burst through the other side of the dance floor, he spotted a group of women in a far corner of the club.
One of them had her back to him, long black hair falling down her back. The hands under her shirt revealed pale skin, and Derek knew it was Emily. He’d never been on the receiving end of her drunken hands, but he’d spent enough time with her to know what she looked like in someone else’s lap.
Derek approached the group and all the women glared at him. Holding his hands up, he grinned. He’d clearly found Emily’s crowd.
“Hey, ladies. I’m not here for you. I’m here for that one.” He pointed at Emily, who didn’t bother turning around. “We’ve got work.”
That got Emily’s attention, and she looked over her shoulder at him. Her lips were swollen from hours of kissing, her cheeks were pink, and her eyes were slightly unfocused. She didn’t look any happier than he felt.
“We have the night off,” Emily reminded him with an unsteady glare. “Fuck off.”
“I’d love to fuck off,” he answered immediately, “but our favorite blonde called. They need us.”
Emily’s face fell into an annoyed pout. “I’m drunk. Tell JJ that.”
“I did.” He crossed his arms, eyebrows raising. “I would love to get my boogie on, but blondy needs us.” Derek decided it was time for the big guns. “JJ needs you.”
Glare returning, Emily’s mouth twisted as she fought the impulse to give JJ whatever she wanted. She lost the fight. With a heavy sigh, she turned back to the woman beneath her. “Next time.”
She slid off the woman’s lap and headed toward Derek with a frosty glare. It would have been scarier if Emily wasn’t swaying slightly as she stomped. He moved aside to let her pass and followed her to the exit. Her glare worked on everyone else, and they parted to let the two agents through.
“Taxi or metro?” Emily asked, looking up and down the street. “What time is it?”
“Metro’s closed.” Derek couldn’t answer her time question, but he knew that much. He held a hand out to flag down a taxi. “Taxi.”
A chuckle escaped Emily, and she gave his raised hand a high five. “Time to go be crime fighters! Emily and Derek! Kicking ass and taking names!”
“Nerd,” he teased, throwing his free arm around her shoulder. “Dork. Geek.”
“Oh, like you’re so cool?” Emily watched as a taxi pulled up to the curb in front of them. “Having a lot of sex doesn’t make you less of a nerd.”
Flashing her a grin, Derek opened the door for her. “You would know.”
Emily pretended to punch his stomach before climbing into the car. She was definitely drunker than she’d been in a long time, and she wasn’t sure how quickly she was going to sober up. JJ better have a good case for them because Emily was never going to forgive her if she called them in for no good reason.
“Quantico,” Derek told the driver as he fell in beside her and shut his door. “FBI.”
The car pulled away, heading toward their second home. Emily turned to look at Derek. He was just as drunk as she was, but he hid it better. Emily’s pale skin flushed red at any sort of excitement or inebriation. Derek looked back at her with vacant eyes.
“I’m trashed,” he said like it was a secret. “I need to sober up.”
“Let me know if you figure out sober,” Emily replied. She squinted as she played back her sentence, trying to figure out if it made any sense. “How to get sober. Fast.”
He just laughed at her, eyes crinkling as he cackled. The sound was infectious, and Emily dissolved into laughter, too. They were headed to the FBI Headquarters to do work while absolutely sloshed. It seemed too ridiculous to be real.
Eventually, the taxi stopped in front of the building. Emily managed to pay the driver (and tip generously), and then the two alcohol-infused agents poured themselves out of the car. They took a minute to gather themselves. Emily gently slapped her cheeks and bounced on her toes. Derek tucked his shirt in while taking deep breaths.
After a moment, they decided they were as ready as they were ever going to be and headed inside. Both of them tried their best to walk normally, but they kept getting distracted by the effort to remember what walking “normally” looked like. They made it to the elevator, though. Emily pressed the button for the sixth floor.
“No one will know,” Emily said confidently. She ran her hands through her hair, trying to fix it. “We’re so sober.”
Derek gave her an incredulous look, but wisely kept his mouth shut. He knew Emily was trying to keep herself together. Still, it was very clear to him that they’d be found out immediately no matter what they did. They were heading into a den of profilers.
The elevators opened to reveal JJ. The media liaison was holding two paper plates with a slice of cheese pizza on each. Emily and Derek stumbled out of the elevator, hands out-stretched, like zombies.
“Jesus Christ,” JJ muttered as she watched them scarf down the greasy food, “you weren’t kidding.”
“Hi,” Emily greeted around a mouthful of pizza. She smiled happily at JJ as she chewed. “Thanks.”
JJ’s annoyance faded slightly as she took in Emily’s dopey smile. Derek groaned loudly as she shoved pizza into his mouth. They were both going to be useless for hours, but she couldn’t help smiling at how happy they were just to eat pizza.
“There’s more in the conference room,” she told them. “I just wanted to start the grease and carb process right away. I made you both coffee, too.”
Finishing her slice, Emily folded her plate. “You’re so nice,” she sighed, reaching out to pat JJ’s cheek. “Cute, too.”
“And freshly single,” Derek pointed out. He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively as he folded his own plate. He wagged a finger at JJ. “Don’t take advantage of Prentiss in her vulnerable state.”
JJ’s cheeks turned red, and she rolled her eyes. “Come on,” she said, turning to the glass doors. “Time to face the music.”
As they followed her through the glass doors into the bullpen, Emily looked at Derek. “Is Hotch the music? What kind of music is Hotch?”
“Interesting question,” Derek replied thoughtfully. “Thrash metal.”
Emily giggled at that, falling into Derek before catching herself. “I was thinking dad rock, but angry music is much better.”
Suppressing a smile, JJ led them through the small kitchen and up into the briefing room. She had to admit that drunk Derek and drunk Emily were pretty amusing. They were funny and fun sober, but drunk? A few of their walls had clearly come down, revealing their silly centers.
“Well, well, well,” Rossi said as JJ held the door open for Emily and Derek, “look what the cat dragged it.”
Emily stopped in her tracks. “I don’t have my bag.”
“Oh, shit,” Derek echoed, “neither do it.”
Sighing loudly, Hotch closed his eyes. “Your things are at your desks. You didn’t take anything with you when you left.”
“Smart!” Derek tapped his forehead, grinning at Emily. “We’re so smart.”
Emily tapped her own forehead with a grin as wide as his. “No muss, no fuss.”
They found chairs and sat down, tried once again to rally, and then noticed the pizza JJ had mentioned earlier. Emily remembered the plate in her hand and unfolded it. Following suit, Derek did the same before putting a slice of pizza on Emily’s plate and one on his own.
“Why are you so drunk?” Garcia asked. Her wide smile betrayed her indignant tone. “You two never get this drunk.”
“We were promised a day off.” Emily glared at Hotch, mouth full of shitty pizza. The glare was mediocre at best. “We’re allowed to get drunk!”
Reid cleared his throat, looking at them through his eyelashes. “I don’t think this level of drunkness is healthy.”
“Fuck off,” Derek said with a dramatic eye roll. He reached across the table and ruffled Reid’s hair. “You’re alright, kid.”
“What’s happening?” Reid asked the room in general.
Appearing between Emily and Derek, JJ put down two mugs of coffee. “We’re having a briefing,” she answered Reid. “That’s what’s happening.”
“Correct.” Hotch pointed the controller at the tv and brought up several pictures of murdered women. “Piedmont, Missouri. Three women were-”
“That’s by Mark Twain National Forest,” Emily interrupted cheerfully. “Tons of killers there.”
The room was silent for a moment as she went back to eating. Emily was usually an exemplar of professionalism, calm and thoughtful. The way she’d interrupted Hotch and practically joked about murder was completely unlike her. Hotch cleared his throat and went back to the presentation.
“As I was saying, three women were killed-”
Derek spoke over Hotch this time. “They look terrible. Lemme guess…Strangulation?”
“That’s so boring,” Emily countered with a deep, pizza-scented sigh. “Besides, they were clearly exsanguinated. Look at the deep stab wounds on their throats.”
“Oh, interesting.” Leaning forward, Derek squinted at the tv. He’d already finished his first slice of pizza. “Yeah, that’s their carotid. Definitely-” He swiveled to stare at Emily. “What the fuck did you say? Exsang-what?”
Emily set her pizza down with purpose, turning to meet Derek’s eyes. “Exsanguinated. Let’s break it down.” She held up one hand in front of her, slightly to the right. “Ex. It means…like… used to be? or … It’s like the word ‘Exit’.” He nodded along, and she continued. “Sanguine is about blood. The latin word Sanguis means blood, right?”
“Right.”
“So ‘ex’ and ‘blood’ means that they don’t have blood anymore.”
“That makes sense.”
“Does it?” Garcia asked, baffled. “I mean… I guess it does?” She looked at Reid. “Is she right?”
Reid shrugged, tilting his head back and forth as he thought about it. “Pretty much. Exsanguination is the process of draining a person of blood. A person who has been exsanguinated has been completely drained.”
“These people were exsanguinated,” Hotch confirmed with a deep frown. He wasn’t sure how an incredibly drunked Emily could tell that the victims had been drained of blood via a stab to their carotid, but she wasn’t wrong. “They were all stabbed in the carotid and drained.”
Gulping down some coffee, Derek hummed. “Were they found in the forest?”
JJ nodded, just as baffled and impressed as the rest of the team. “They were. All off the main road, all buried in shallow graves, all wearing clothing with the tags still on.”
“Killing is so bad,” Emily said. She tossed the last piece of crust into her mouth. “It’s also stupid. Serial killers are stupid.”
“They’re not even that creative.” Derek put another slice on Emily’s plate for her. “I mean, sure, the draining thing is cool, but vampires are just lame. Only weirdos do blood stuff.”
“That’s very true,” she agreed breezily. “This guy is a weirdo.”
Hotch, sensing that Emily and Derek weren’t going to be any help for a while, decided to change his tactics. “We’ll debrief on the plane,” he told the group, nodding subtly at the two drunk agents. “Wheels up in 30.”
Emily watched him leave the room, followed by Rossi and Reid. With a laugh, Garcia reached for a piece of pizza. She tilted her head back to lower the slice into her mouth. Emily’s eyes widened and she did the same.
“He wants you two to sleep on the plane,” JJ told them. She dropped her chin into her hand, leaning on the round table and watching her three best friends eat pizza. “I still can’t believe you’re so drunk.”
“You should come out with us next time,” Emily suggested casually, feeling not at all casual. She took a bite of her pizza. “I’ll behave.”
A loud bark of a laugh burst from Derek. “That’s a damn lie!”
Emily turned yet another glare at Derek, this one a little less fuzzy. “ Shut the fuck up,” she hissed. Emily kicked him under the table, making him yelp. “I’ll kill you.”
“It’s okay,” JJ laughed, brushing a hand over Emily’s back. “I’d love to come out with you.”
Garcia’s eyes flicked between them before jumping to Derek. The drunk agent gave her an exaggerated wink and shoved half a slice into his mouth. Giggling, Penelope tore into her own pizza.
“Oh no.” Emily’s eyes widened, and she dropped the last of her pizza on her plate. “I’m gonna barf.”
“That’s hot!” Derek laughed as she ran to the trash can in the corner and threw up. “That’s how you’ll get her, Princess!”
Sighing heavily, JJ just gathered a few napkins and stood up. “Oh, Emily.”
30 minutes later, the jet took off. Emily immediately chugged a bottle of water, took her shoes off, and fell asleep on the couch. Derek tried to participate in the briefing, but fell asleep in his seat after 5 minutes. Rossi took pictures of both of them and sent them along to Garcia for future blackmail.